


Oh, How Many Ways

by evaagna



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:44:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaagna/pseuds/evaagna
Summary: Ficlet fills for thisKiss Memeon Tumblr.





	1. Don't Wake Me If I'm Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6\. lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up

Bodhi drifts to consciousness slowly and unwillingly. 

The warm presence of another body stretched out beside him and the comfortable weight of an arm slung over his waist are familiar and reassuring, inviting him back to sleep. He can tell without opening his eyes that the room is still dark, no soft light diffusing through his eyelids. He doesn’t need to be awake yet.

Hoth is cold. All the time, no matter how many layers you bundle up in. The nights would be unbearable, he thinks, if he didn’t have someone to hold close. As it is, the mornings are the worst; having to pry himself from the cozy embrace of his lover and their bed to get ready for the day is painful every single time.

Just thinking about it has Bodhi groaning, huddling himself closer to Cassian. 

He braves a few bleary blinks, intending only to rearrange himself into a more comfortable position. It takes a long moment for his vision to come into focus in the dim room. But when it does, Cassian’s relaxed face swims before him, only inches between them. His eyes are closed, his breathing deep and even; he’s still asleep. Even in his half-coherent state, Bodhi just wants to look for one quiet moment, to soak up this peaceful instant in the liminal dawn hours. 

He shifts, just slightly, in the stillness and Cassian groans beside him.

“Bodhi, no,” He still doesn’t open his eyes, but apparently isn’t actually asleep. “Don’t get up yet.” He paws around for a moment, finding the edge of the comforter and pulling it up closer around them. As he does, he leans forward into Bodhi’s space, like he’s leaching warmth through proximity. “Stay here,” he mumbles, and then presses his lips inarticulately to Bodhi’s, soft and slow and tired and warm. 

It doesn’t take much to convince Bodhi. “Okay,” he sighs into Cassian’s lips. He lets his eyes drift closed again, even as he returns the sleepy kiss. “Just...just a while longer.”


	2. I Could Say It So Many Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15\. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

“I’m serious, Cassian!” Bodhi sulks, turning his lips down in such a purposeful show that it’s clear he’s hiding a laugh. He’s just told an anecdotal tale of one ill-fated card game back when he was young and stupid and only fresh out of the Academy. It’s the kind of story that’s ridiculous and only funny in hindsight, but perfect for filling the long, empty times on board their little ship during missions. 

Cassian is leaning against the far wall of the cabin, arms crossed and hip dipped to one side. He has one eyebrow raised, expression skeptical like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing. But Bodhi’s pout makes him chuckle. “I know you are,” he agrees, “I’m just not sure _why_.”

“Why not?” Bodhi offers with a grin and a shrug, “I never said I thought it out or anything-- _Obviously_ not.” He sniggers a few moments longer, Cassian joining him until they taper off into easy, contented silence. 

After a pause, Cassian pushes off the wall and strolls the few steps across the space so that he stands right in front of where Bodhi is sitting, reclined and relaxed. He leans down, bracing his hands against Bodhi’s thighs so they’re eye to eye, and makes himself comfortable right up in the other’s space. “You’re cute,” he says, smile dancing in his tone, “Even if a little reckless.” 

From there, it’s easy to lean into a kiss, soft and warm and born of familiarity. It lasts a long moment, like they’re both savoring the closeness, but eventually Cassian pulls back, just far enough to look Bodhi in the eyes. He leans forward again to rest their foreheads together and Bodhi lets out a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know where you get off calling _me_ reckless,” he murmurs, but it’s breathy and gentle; it doesn’t sound like much of a complaint. 

Cassian huffs in amusement, but the sound gets caught between them. Their closeness is a poignant and tangible weight in the air. He swallows; something swells in his chest, and it nearly overwhelms him. “Bodhi, I love you,” he breathes, the words pouring out before he can think. Because he doesn’t need to think. He’s said it before, only… Well, maybe he hasn’t said it in so many words, but he’s meant it. 

Bodhi has. Bodhi has said it in words, in actions, in the way he smiles when their eyes meet. It’s the way he smiles now, broad and brilliant and so, so content. Cassian takes a deep, shaky breath. “I love you so much,” he whispers again.

Bodhi’s grin only grows, if that’s possible. Without warning, he surges up and forward, capturing Cassian’s lips again, this time clumsy in his enthusiasm. He sucks in a sharp breath when he finally pulls away, then lets it out in one rush, “I love you, too.”


	3. Whatever You Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12\. a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

“Run, Bodhi! _Run_!”

Cassian’s voice is as frantic as Bodhi thinks he’s ever heard it, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles backwards for a moment, nearly tripping over himself and eyes going comically wide. “ _Shit_ , Cassian, I thought you said–”

Cassian grabs for his arm, catching his sleeve and yanking him out of the way just as a blaster shot singes past, alarmingly close to his head. “Forget what I said! Just _run_!”

The mission had been going so well, too. One tiny slip right at the tail end, and suddenly they’re both running for their lives. Bodhi’s not even entirely sure what went wrong, but he certainly doesn’t have time to think about it right now.

They barely make it back onto the ship, stumbling up the ramp and heaving for breath. Cassian shouts for K2 to get them out of there. “Go, Kay, go!” He pounds a hand on the wall on the way to the cockpit to make sure he has the droid’s attention. “We have to go, now!”

Bodhi doesn’t stop to hear the response; the ramp isn’t even up yet, and blaster fire is still raining down on them. Something explodes in a shower of smoke and sparks; he scrambles to the release lever, slamming it up as if that will somehow make the mechanism raise faster. It doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. “Come on, come on,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

The ship lurches off the ground. “Ha! Yes!” Bodhi cheers, then whips around, “Uh, right– right!” He rushes up to the cockpit, only stopping once he’s leaning over Cassian’s shoulder and biting his lip to stop himself from backseat driving. Some part of him wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all; the last time he’d been in this same position, things hadn’t turned out so well. It’d ended with a crashed ship and a firefight, if he remembered correctly.

He can’t so much as take a deep breath until they’re in the clear. Even then, Bodhi’s heart races in his chest. Because– Holy _shit_ , they almost just died, _again_

Cassian slumps back in his seat with a groan, and Bodhi lets himself collapse against his back, forehead thudding gently into his shoulder. “I told you I’d be no good undercover,” he grumbles, though it’s a bit muffled.

Cassian laughs. “We got it, didn’t we?” He fishes around in the inner pocket of his jacket until he finds what he’s looking for - a little disk containing sensitive information apparently critical to the Alliance’s next move - and waves it absentmindedly in front of them to prove his point before tucking it away again. “And it could’ve gone worse.”

Bodhi lifts his head, just to give him an incredulous look. “Yeah, we could be _dead_ ,” he snorts.

Cassian shrugs, offering a half-smile and arching his brows as if to reluctantly concede the point. “Or we could be captured.” Which– Yeah, okay, that would probably be worse. Bodhi winces, but hums in agreement.

They settle into an easy silence, still catching their breath from the sprint back to the ship and coming down from the flood of adrenaline thrumming through their systems.

After a moment, Cassian turns in his chair and extends a hand. “C’mere.” He tugs Bodhi up from his spot and into his arms, onto his lap. Bodhi goes willingly, wrapping his arms around Cassian and pulling him close. He doesn’t draw back until the knot in his chest eases and the tension begins to drain from his body.

When he finally does, Cassian meets his eyes, half-lidded and lingering. “Kiss me,” he breathes, soft but insistent, voice rough with relief and catching in his throat.

Bodhi smiles tiredly and leans in, more than happy to oblige.


	4. Overreaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14\. starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion

Bodhi is late. 

At first, Cassian doesn’t think twice about it. 

He heard from someone in Intelligence that the team had missed their last check-in, but that isn’t especially concerning in and of itself. It’s only a few hours past their scheduled return, and he knows better than anyone that things never go exactly as planned. 

But those hours quickly turn into a day, and that day into two, then three. He stays remarkably calm until the morning of the fourth, when they still haven’t heard a word. He _knows_ how missions can go, but this one was supposed to be in and out, quick and easy; it shouldn’t be taking them quite this long, should it? But they should have at least checked in by now, right?

Cassian was supposed to be on that mission with Bodhi, is the thing. Only, Draven had pulled him off at the last minute, confident that assigned task was straightforward and low-risk enough that it didn’t warrant sending three operatives. He’d tried to make the case that he should be sent, instead of one of the others, but from the start it was an argument he would never win, even if he was the most experienced and the most qualified.

Draven had said something about needing him here, something about wanting to give him more responsibilities, and had generally hand-waved away all of Cassian’s points. He suspects that it’s in preparation for an upcoming promotion, one that’s well deserved and long overdue. But he’s finding that sitting around in meetings and planning strategy all day is painfully boring compared to field work, especially when he has to spend the entire time forcing himself not to imagine worst case scenarios.

K-2 is probably the first to notice his distress. He even tries to reassure him, in his own way. At least, that's how Cassian chooses to interpret it; it's hard to tell with him, sometimes. “You look morose, Cassian,” the droid starts, when Cassian comes to find him that afternoon, interrupting his diagnostic tests and clearly looking for a distraction.

Cassian gives him an irritated look and sighs as he leans back against the opposite wall. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You know,” K-2 continues, as if he hadn’t spoken, “The statistics don't drop _dismally_ low until an operative has been missing for a full five standard days.”

Cassian groans and lets his head drop back against the wall with a dull thud. “Thanks, Kay,” he mutters, hand coming up to cover his eyes, “I know Bodhi’s-- _they_ are probably fine. I'm sure they just got delayed.”

He doesn’t know how someone who can’t technically make facial expressions manages to look so judgemental most of the time, but K’s stare plainly shows just what he thinks of Cassian’s claim not to be worried. “There are other statistics that I can provide you with if you'd like,” he offers in a deadpan, “Though, most of them--”

Cassian cuts him off. “Don't tell me!” He puts up a hand as if it will physically stop the droid from continuing. “Do me a favor and keep any more statistics to yourself, Kay, please.”

He _isn’t_ a worrier, is the thing. Or, he never was before. But by the end of the day, there’s really no other way to describe it. Now look at him-- He’s pacing! Probably driving half the base up the wall with it, too. And he's starting to think that being so intimately familiar with what can go wrong on a mission isn't so much of a benefit, after all. Any number of scenarios could explain the delay, but the longer he thinks about it, the worse those explanations get.

He hardly sleeps that night, and he has meetings all the next morning. He would rather be doing quite nearly anything else, at this point - namely either moping back in his and Bodhi’s room, or alternating between pacing around the hangar and the communications center, - but he faces the day with a strong face. If he’s not paying that much attention or if his fingers’ repetitive drumming on the tabletop annoys anyone else in the meeting room, no one says anything about it.

Logically, there’s no reason for him to be so worked up, and he knows it; it’s not like there’s anything more he can do to help the team from here, even if something bad really has gone down. Plus, he’s left strict instructions that he be commed as soon as there is any sign of them, so he might as well be productive in the meantime. He takes a deep breath and makes himself focus.

Finally, _finally_ at just past midday, he hears something. They’ve been talking strategy for the last hour and half and have just paused for a break when Cassian’s comm dings. He fumbles for it, nearly dropping it in his haste, and then only half hears the report. The only thing that matters is that the team’s shuttle has been sighted and should be landing momentarily. He drops everything.

But when he arrives in the hangar, out of breath from practically sprinting across the base, he’s told that Bodhi and his partner had promptly been whisked away for debriefing. He clenches his jaw, but nods his thanks to the passing pilot who’d provided the information. At least it’s better than hearing that he’d been whisked off to medical.

The debrief could take a while, he knows, especially if the mission went south, and Cassian is certain that he won’t be able to see Bodhi until it’s through. The rest of the day drags on; the anticipation is nearly enough to drown him. All he wants is to see Bodhi, see for himself that he’s alright, find out what happened. But apparently it will have to wait.

When he finally gets back to their room at the end of the day, Bodhi is waiting for him. He’s sprawled across the bed, one arms over his eyes. He groans when the door opens, not bothering to look up. “Cassian--” It’s muffled into his elbow, barely intelligible, until he shifts just slightly. “I don’t know which was worse--” He finally sit ups. “The stupid _mission_ or all the _questions_. I swear, if Draven asked one more--”

Cassian cuts him off, crossing the room in a heartbeat and pulling him into his arms. Relief swoops through him at the sight of Bodhi here, safe. “Bodhi,” he breathes, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” Bodhi sighs, “We came under fire and had to lay low for a while. Gave us a chance to make some repairs, though, and-- We couldn’t scrounge up a whole lot of spare parts, but so we figured if we repurposed a few things… So, fix the comms, or the engine?” He winces. “Wasn’t too hard of a choice, really. But I’m fine; we’re both completely fine.”

Cassian doesn’t let go for a long moment. He’s just glad that’s all it was; they’ve been through a lot worse, after all. He presses a kiss to Bodhi’s temple and sighs into his hair, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Were you really that worried?” Bodhi pulls back, amused smile playing across his lips. “I heard you were stomping around the base, scaring the recruits with your--” He gestures with his index finger, making a little loop through the air around his own face. “Glowering like you do, I imagine.”

Cassian frowns. “Who told you that?” He makes to deny it, but then cuts himself off. “Well, I don’t know about _stomping_ ,” he mutters, “But of course I was worried.”

Bodhi has to bite his lip to stop a laugh from bubbling out. “C’mere,” he manages instead, extending a hand and pulling Cassian down to sit on the bed next to him.

Cassian’s hand goes to his face, thumb brushing tenderly over his cheekbone. He leans in, their gazes locked, but then hesitates with only an inch between them. His eyes dart down to Bodhi’s lips; a tongue flicks out, wetting them. 

Bodhi closes the distance himself, keeping the kiss light but lingering. “I'm alright, Cassian, really.” His eyes go soft. “I promise.”

Cassian lets his eyes drop to where their hands link in their laps, fingers interlaced. He gives a reassuring squeeze and presses their lips together again without responding. He expects to only mimic their kiss moments before, intimate and chaste. But then he feels Bodhi's hand at the back of his neck, ghosting then firm, and it urges him on. He deepens the kiss; Bodhi's lips are warm and dry against his own, and he doesn't hesitate to lick into them, savoring how easily they part.

Bodhi hums into it. He leans back onto the bed, pulling Cassian with him. It’s not where either of them intended this to go, but Bodhi certainly isn't complaining. His fingers scramble to grip the clothing between them and he shifts until he has a thigh wedged between Cassian’s. It earns him an appreciative groan, even as Cassian moves to nip down the slender column of his throat.

The sensation makes Bodhi squeak out a laugh, ever the ticklish one. The sound shouldn't be remotely sexy, but it doesn't slow either of them down. “If this is how you react,” he manages through a sly smile, “Maybe I should get stranded more often.”

Cassian chuckles into the soft skin at the base of his neck. “That's a terrible idea.”


End file.
